Kiss Me
by UA
Summary: So. I stumbled on some prompts about kissing. And because the shipper in me is almost always inwardly screaming this to our babies every time they're in close proximity onscreen, I decided why the hell not. Rating, as always, subject to change.


**Kiss Me**

* * *

 ** _At a prom_**

* * *

 ** _333_**

* * *

Carol has to hand it to them. This year's prom theme is certainly _memorable_.

"Still can't believe Principal Monroe went for it."

She bites back a smile, an effort to quell the butterflies suddenly taking flight in her belly that ultimately fails. "Hmm," she hums instead and takes a well-timed sip of her punch as one of her fellow chaperones sidles up next to her, their elbows brushing just barely as he reaches for his own cup of punch.

"Looks like blood."

She smirks into her cup, takes another sip before responding. "Pretty sure that's the point." The newest and most talked about member of King County High's staff, her gruffly handsome colleague Daryl Dixon was a man of relatively few words ( _although Lori swore he was positively chatty in Carol's presence_ ) whereas his predecessor, the kindly inquisitive Mr. Horvath, had decidedly _not_ been. It gave him an air of mystery that many of the hormone-fueled girls ( _and_ _some_ _of the boys_ ) flocked to like moths to a flame, and enrollment in the school's agriculture classes had more than doubled since the end of Dale's tenure a year ago. She should know, as her home economics classes were housed in the same building. As a result, enrollment in her classes had increased, too. And wouldn't you know it? She's been making a fool of herself around the man ever since with shy smiles and oftentimes awkward, stumbling bits and pieces of conversation. "Look around. It's the Apocalypse."

"Pfft. Really? What kind?"

Zombies, kids in homemade Hazmat suits, aliens, even a few Mad Max types...he definitely has a point. "At least the punch is good."

"Pretty sure it's spiked," he says, downing the remainder of his cup and quickly grabbing the ladle to top it back off.

"No!" She frowns in disbelief before taking another tentative sip. It tastes sweet, almost sickeningly so, but the gymnasium around them is crowded with teenaged bodies and Spring is just Summer-lite in Georgia. With sweat pearling in the well of her throat and her curly hair starting to stick to the back of her neck in a frizzing mess, she'll gladly take sweet over the alternative. "I don't believe you."

He shrugs, gives her a curled lip little half smile. "Believe what you wanna believe.'

That smile does things to Carol, reawakens parts of her best left ignored. But not even thoughts of her six-year-old daughter and the possible mischief Carl has enticed her into stirring up at the babysitter's expense is enough to do it. She throws back the rest of her own cup to combat the sudden dryness in her throat and holds it out for more.

 **"** Thirsty **?"**

 _You have no idea._ She simply nods, and that half smile grows exponentially, shows off a gleaming set of teeth that looks positively predatory to her lust-muddled way of thinking. She's clearly not the only one because they soon amass a small crowd around them, roughly half a dozen giggling girls and one of her most prized pupils. "Mr. Rhee," she murmurs. "Don't you look…ghastly?"

Glenn takes her comment as high praise, his stature straightening and his grin positively beaming. "Thanks."

"No wonder the kid ain't got no date," Daryl mutters beneath his breath as one of the eyeballs attached to the teen's costume glasses slinks forward then springs back.

His hand finds its way to the small of her back when she promptly starts choking, but Carol flinches forward, waving him and the rest of the concerned onlookers off. "I'm okay. I'm fine." Contrary to popular belief, she's not completely clueless. She's heard bits and pieces of the gossip circulating the hallways and what little that has escaped her ears, Lori's been sure to keep her up to speed. Even if she does rag her about Daryl's willful butchering, as she puts it, of the English language. As two single, reasonably attractive adults of a viable age, they've captured the imagination of more than a few in the student body. Just _standing_ next to each other is more fuel for the fodder, she knows, and the deep blush on her cheeks, well. She could claim a lot of reasons for it but Maggie Greene and Tara Chamblers? Rosita Espinosa and Sasha Williams? Amy Harrison? They definitely wouldn't buy it. "I'm fine. _Really_."

Shane swoops in then and Glenn and the girls scatter with no small amount of tittering.

At the last second, Amy hangs back, shouts, "Cool costume, Coach Walsh!"

"Impressive shiner," Daryl says by way of greeting. "Boss lady's kid nail you?"

"Kid's given me nothing but lip ever since I started dating her sister." Shane grumbles and ( _not_ - _so_ ) covertly flips the girl off before turning back to them. Glancing over at Carol, he grunts out a laugh, dances around Daryl's question. "No, Man. I _wish_."

On cue, Lori joins them, rubbing one restless hand over her pregnant belly and touching Carol's elbow with the other. "Go ahead, Shane. Tell him how you got the black eye," she encouraged, as she and Carol shared a smile between friends. "If you don't, I _will_."

"Fuckin' T-ball practice. I'm telling you, Carol. That girl of yours…she's little but she's mighty. Hear what I'm saying? Packs a punch and has a helluva arm. Shit aim, though."

"No worse than Carl's," Lori reminds him with a laugh.

"No worse than Carl's," Carol agrees with a distracted smile. She's too busy trying to decipher the look clouding Daryl's normally clear blue eyes. It's a fruitless effort, though, because it's unreadable, just as guarded as always.

"Shane," Lori teasingly singsongs. "Fix me and the baby some punch."

"You kiddin'?" Shane scoffs as he leads her away with a supportive hand hovering over her back. "You ain't touching that stuff. My buddy Rick would…"

"Guess it really _does_ have a little something extra in it."

Daryl's eyes narrow, but his lips twitch with the makings of a repressed smile as he studies her. "You believe him and not me?"

Flustered, Carol explains, "Known him longer is all. You, I barely know."

"Fair enough," Daryl allows with a dip of his chin. "Listen, you wanna…"

"I'm sorry I…" Carol says at the same time. "Sorry. _Sorry_." Waving a hand in front of her flushed face, she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "Do you want to get some air? It's stifling in here."

"Sure," Daryl answers easily enough. Shane and Lori are off in a quiet little corner, Lori's swelling feet propped up in a chair and Shane holding up her phone while she FaceTimes her husband at work, but their other colleagues are taking their chaperone duties much more seriously, watching the students with eagle eyes. "Mamet and Porter got this."

Outside isn't all that better, but Carol breathes a little easier all the same. Too bad her heart picks up the slack, beating away inside her chest, because _damn_. Without any other distractions, she notices just how good he looks. He always looks good to her, _too_ _good_ , but tonight? It's not just the mugginess of a typical April night in the South making her melt. The dark blue button-down he's wearing is certainly more on the casual side, but it stretches snugly across his broad shoulders and molds lovingly to his upper body, and she, for one, isn't complaining. Catching him and herself off-guard, she blurts out a compliment. "You look nice."

"Pfft."

"I mean it. You look handsome." If she didn't know any better, she'd think he were blushing, but the moon's light is hazy at best as it peeks in and out of the night clouds, and she already feels like she's staring, so she ducks her head.

"Handsome, huh?"

Carol sighs, pleased and more than a little bit exasperated by the situation she's landed herself in. Get some air? _Right_. Now she's having trouble breathing again because he's so close, close enough to touch, and she wants nothing more than to reach out to him, but there are so many reasons why that's a bad idea. Besides, she can still hear the laughter and the music from inside, muted but just beyond a set of double doors. "Now you're just fishing for compliments. It's…it _should_ be unattractive."

"Like you having a kid?"

Her head snaps up, and her heart drops all the way to her feet. "Wh-what did you just say?"

"That why you never mentioned her?"

"I don't know what you're…Daryl," she sputters. "We barely know each other, and Sophia? She's the most special person in my life. Her well-being is more important to me than any crush could ever be. Where is this even coming from? It's not like I've kept her a secret."

The doors crash open behind them before he has time to formulate a response, and a fraught silence settles between, one that lasts until the laughing couple gets in their car and drives away. When their tail-lights are nothing but a memory, he speaks again, his voice a low, husky rasp. "You didn't hear me right. Said it _should_ be. Least that's what me and my brother were raised to think. But it _ain't_."

Softly, she murmurs, "It's not?"

"It ain't," he repeats just as quietly. "What you say…"

He's close again, and this time she does reach out, smooths a shaky hand over the back of his wrist, up his forearm. "Daryl?"

"What you say me and you get to know each other a little better?"

Carol takes her time answering him, but that's only because her heart has leapt back into her throat, beating away fiercely and making it difficult for her to formulate words. He doesn't know that, though, and endearingly, the man of few words starts rambling. Already, he's spoken more words to her in one night than probably the whole time they've _known_ each other.

"Wanna be more than a crush. Wanna be important. _Christ_. I wanna…"

"Daryl." She stops him by covering his mouth with her hand and can't bite back the smile when his lips press warmly, unconsciously, against her palm in response. "Okay."

"Okay? We can talk. 'Bout your kid even if you want. Maybe someday I can meet her?"

"Okay," she grins as his eyes glow at her in the darkness.

"You're beautiful," he blurts when she removes her hand, drops it to rest on his shoulder. "So fuckin' pretty."

"If you're trying to get me to kiss you…"

"S'it working?"

Carol pulls herself up on her tiptoes, both hands sliding up the back of his neck to his shaggy hair, and smiles at him, her eyes lingering on his utterly appealing mouth. "Yes."

"Yeah?"

"You can stop talking right…about… _now_." With each pause between words, they've moved closer and closer together, noses fitting against each other and lips ghosting until his hands find her waist and close the rest of the distance between them. The sweet, innocent press of their lips doesn't last long, and she soon finds herself with her back against the gymnasium wall and his rough hands tangled in her hair, lost to the rest of the outside world as they explore the wonders of each other's mouths. But all good things must come to an end, after all, and catcalls and good-natured whistles break them apart. She hides her face in Daryl's broad shoulder as hearty, teenaged congratulations go around.

"Get it, Mr. Dix!"

"About damn time!"

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Aww. You two make such a cute couple!"

Until one commanding voice quiets them all. "Enough! Show's over! Back inside or vacate the premises! Everyone!"

One by one, the teens comply, and Carol and Daryl find themselves alone in the company of their boss. Speaking of little but mighty…Carol can't find the words, and Daryl, unfortunately, reverts back to form. "That include us?" Carol mumbles hopefully when he remains tongue-tied.

Principal Deanna Monroe props her hands on her hips, makes them sweat it out for a few seconds before answering. "That depends."

Daryl finally rediscovers his voice. "On?"

"Two things," the diminutive woman smirks. "One, you keep your hands to yourselves inside. These are impressionable children we're responsible for."

"Done," Carol promises. "And two?"

"You guilt Walsh into donating his winnings to a worthy cause."

"Winnings? The hell?"

"Don't judge him too harshly. A few more days, and let's just say, my debate team would have benefited handsomely." With that, she leaves them with their jaws hanging open and their eyes wide.

Carol's the first one to break, and Daryl soon follows her, smirking at the laughter that spills endlessly from her kiss-bruised lips.

"C'mere."

"Daryl."

"You heard the lady. M'not ready to let you go yet."

One kiss melts into two melts into three and this time? They're _both_ breathless.

* * *

 **I can't promise frequent updates because I'm still struggling** **with writer's block like whoa, but there were 15 prompts in all, I believe, so expect me to add to this collection as inspiration and time allows.**

 **Due to the nature of some of the prompts, some of the one shots will be AU's. Some will be set in the ZA.**

 **Feedback would be lovely.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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